She wasn’t known for her savoir faire.

Peter cocked an eyebrow as Mickey rushed into class late. The later was apologizing to Mrs. Briggs for the tardy, stating he had gotten turned around and went the wrong way. Peter had the feeling it was bull, but if there was any day you could pull that, it was the first day in a new school. Mrs. Briggs waved him off and shooed him to a desk. Mrs. Briggs was no nonsense. She just wanted people in the chairs and learning. Excuses took up learning time and she didn’t have time for it.

As Mickey walked to his desk his eyes seemed vacant. He seemed to be somewhere else. Peter’s suspicions were only enhanced when Mickey chuckled to himself as he took an open seat diagonally behind Peter. Shrugging Peter let it go, however he wasn’t the only one to notice. Once the lesson was thoroughly underway Devon, who sat behind Peter and next to Mickey, decided he couldn’t wait any further.

“Oi,” He hissed, “What’s that grin about, eh?”

Mickey, for some dumb reason, decided to play dumb, “What grin?”

“What grin he says,” Devon mocked. “Maybe the one on your stupid face.”

“Oh, that grin. It’s nothing.”

“Baloney.”

“I’m just glad things are going so well my first day here. You know, making surprising new friends and all.”

“That is such a load of-”

“Gentlemen!” Mrs. Briggs called from the front. “I shouldn’t have to remind you about acceptable conduct in this class. However, if necessary you both can come after that hour to have me explain the finer points again.”

“That wont be necessary,” Devon mumbled.

“Sorry,” Mickey added, “Again.”

“Alright then. Incidentally, not a great start Mr. Travers.”

“No it isn’t ma’am.”

“See you remedy that.”

“Yes ma’am”

With that final rebuke all the students hunkered in for the lesson. It proceeded uninterrupted for the rest of the period which was lucky. Within thirty seconds of her finishing the final point the bell rang. She always packed a lot of info into her lessons. Devon was over the mystery, but Peter wasn’t. He matched Mickey’s pace of packing there bags up so they could leave together. Luckily for Peter he had a band lesson. The practice rooms were near the gym so he could hound Mickey while the walked to class.

“So how was your last class?” He began.

“Trig? Kinda boring. I got a couple more panels of my comic story boarded though. So over all productive.”

“Comic?”

“The Adventures of Mickey Jones. Where an unlikely hero is marooned on a distant planet and must assimilate to the local life forms’ way of life.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Art imitating life much?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sniffed.

“How about the period before? You know, the one I wasn’t present for.”

Mickey stopped in his tracks, “You’re to the point as well, aren’t you?”

“As well as who?”

“Enola. She was very to the point in Spanish.”

“Which point?”

“That she knew people were making stories up about her. She just laid it all out for me. It was refreshing.”

“Yeah, well, she was never known for her savoir faire. Not saying that she was inappropriate. Just a little awkward sometimes. But in a cute way. She has this habit of stating facts. No inflection, no emotion, just facts. She doesn’t believe in beating around the bush, at least from what I remember. I haven’t hung out with her a ton, just a few times. She was always perfectly polite, but usually to the point, you know?”

“I find it quite interesting,” Mickey mused keeping the rest of his thoughts to himself.

“Just be careful. She’s had an unfair shake of it this year. Most of us do what we can, but the damage is done for the most part.”

“Noted.”

Peter nodded. He had never told anyone but he had been interested in Enola. Then Carter had snaked his way in before he could muster his courage. Not that it mattered now, he was with Dottie. However he still wasn’t super excited about how Enola was being treated. He and Dottie had agreed to try and turn things around for her. It was slow going. Enola didn’t feel like talking to many people. Especially since most of them whispered behind their hands about her.

“Well, off to play the Dulcimer.”

“What even is that?” Mickey asked, confused.

“Come to a concert and see for yourself.”

Mickey nodded and clapped him on the back before heading down to the showers. Peter watched him go. There was something about that kid. He was easy to talk to. Also something else. He seemed to get it. Peter turned to grab his instrument. Maybe this would be a more interesting year then he anticipated.